Sneaking Suspicion

Posted on Fri Jan 10th, 2025 @ 12:30 by Claire Cavendish & Magali Isebeart

Chapter: Besieged
Location: Groundkeeper's shed, Avalon
Timeline: Evening, Wednesday, February 3rd, 1993
1809 words - 3.6 OF Standard Post Measure

Mister Pocklington was one of those teachers that seemed to be slightly out of touch with his students. Not for lack of trying, but his conservative approach to teaching as well as English literature made him stand out like a sore thumb among the more modern streaks of his peers. He was slightly older than the average faculty as well, and Claire had hired him despite a lack of mutant ability. All in all, it made Winifred a man on the outside looking in. As such he was wandering around the castle grounds, collar of his dark grey woolen long coat upturned against the ghastly cold coming from the direction of the Loch. This was the second time he had passed the groundskeeper's sheds, and this time he looked around quickly before stepping towards it.

The door wasn't locked, why would they? There was a huge wall around the inner courtyard of the Institute. Even the few things outside the castle walls weren't locked. They were on an island after all. He looked over his shoulder one last time before slinking into the shed. There was a large tarp covering something up, with spare parts and a rolling mechanics toolbox next to it. "I knew it." He muttered under his breath as he approached the covered up thing.

There were parts on a pallet next to the old machine. A valve cover, some bolts in an old tin bucket, some tools, a dirty rag or two. As Winifred approached and spoke, a form emerged from behind the machine, that of a woman of indeterminate age, with sharp, owlesque features and a luxury of feathers accentuating yellow eyes. "Oh hello there, I didn't notice you. Hi."

Winifred stiffened, he was clearly just as surprised as the owl woman that they had found themselves there at the same time. "Might I enquire what you're working on?" He ventured forth slowly, making sure to take in all the details of the contents of the shed.

"There's an old, first generation Unimog that's stood here for years, if not decades. I'm trying to get it running again. Just a little hobby project," Maggie offered, taking a hesitant step closer to offer a hand in greet. "Magali Isebeart. Friends call me Maggie. I'm one of the custodians, mainly I do nighttime cleaning and sweeping of the classrooms and small maintenance and repair jobs."

"Winifred Pocklington, English year 7 and up. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Isebeart." Winifred took her hand and gave it a polite, albeit slightly weak, shake. "That's all you're working on then? An antique tractor?" he sounded disappointed by the fact. "One would think with a school full of mutants there would be something more interesting going on inside its walls, but the barricade went up not twenty-four hours and I'm already running out of places to explore."

"It's almost like we're just people with people wishes doing people things," Magali smiled, amusement in her voice and her eyes as she sat down on a crate, contemplating the man. "We're a school. We take in the children society doesn't want anymore and try to give them an education, to make them productive members of society. What do you expect there to be going on?"

"Almost.." Winifred gave a bit of an awkward smile at that which made it difficult to determine if he was just playing along with the joke or if there was something more behind his agreement. "I've learnt to expect very little, but there's so many rumours going around the halls, and one grows bored of peering out the window, I suppose."

"What kind of rumors?" Maggie asked, a curious smile on owlish features. She was happy to play along with this game.

Winifred shrugged a bit, "I'm sure you've heard of them too. Speak of secret lairs and experimental aeroplanes." He made the remarks come off as just a passing thought. It was certainly stuff the students spoke about. Vast conspiracies were also abound as to the relation between the Sherwood Rangers and the Institute. He decided not to broach that subject.

"You mean, like in the comic books?" Maggie giggled, it all sounded so silly to her. "If there was an experimental airplane, don't you think modern radar would see it every time it took off? I don't know much about airplanes and airports, just that those people in those towers at airports that keep airspace safe don't have much of a sense of humor about unregistered airplanes flying about this way and that. And secret lairs? What, are we the freemasons? The illuminati?"

"I did tell you they were rumours," Winifred felt laughed at, it wasn't something he'd expected from the caretaker of a private school. He was used to them being more aware of their station. "Besides, it's something to do on a dreary night such as this." He reached into his pocket for a notebook and looked something up, "Did you know that in the late 17th century the Laird of the land harboured what they referred to as Witchblood?"

"I've not heard about that but that actually sounds genuinely interesting," Magali was instantly curious and attentive, even though just a moment before she'd laughed away these silly rumors - surely none of that nonsense about secret lairs and experimental airplanes could be real, right? "I've often thought that maybe all those legends about witches and cryptids and such were maybe just embellished stories about early mutants, changed over time to fit narratives - fear of the unknown, of anything 'other', hatred of that which is different, things like that."

"There is certainly accounts that lend credence to that notion." Winifred looked around the shed, "This building has not been around for that long, obviously, but one imagines deep secrets held within the walls of the keep." He figured that there was nothing of interest to really gain in this location or this conversation, but he also knew that having used boredom as an excuse it would be odd to already excuse himself, "What is your favourite cryptid?"

"I feel like I'm contractually obligated to say Nessie," Magali replied with a low key shrug. "Though I'm having trouble imagining how a mutant could give rise to those stories," What a strange man, she thought to herself, jumping from rumors to different subjects like that. "But what was this about the laird and the witchblood?"

"In the late 16th early 17th century the British isles introduced laws surrounding witch craft resulting in the persecution of individuals thought to have made pacts with the Devil. It was punishable by death, which I'm sure you're familiar with through pop-cullture references." Winifred didn't really mean to, but his tone was always bordering on condescending when he was explaining matters to students or peers alike. Not that he viewed the caretaker as a peer. "There's medieval texts surrounding this castle and its Laird, speaking of it being a sanctuary by those tainted by the devil's blood. Or in more positive writings on the same, as those visited by the Fae."

"So even then it was a safe haven for those persecuted by the ignorant and intolerant," Maggie blurted out, though she seemed alarmed when she had fully registered what she had just said. "Not that I blame them - well, I understand that it's just human nature to be afraid of what they don't understand," They? Did she not consider herself one?

"They do what they can to give themselves a sense of security." Winifred folded his arms in front of him, tensing up a bit, "which is understandable from a certain point of view. There's students and staff here that have harmed people. Those close to them even. Because they couldn't control their abilities. That's not even talking about those that can read and control the minds of others.

"Hmm," Maggie considered the man's words for a moment, looking at him with an inscrutable expression. She then leaned down and picked up a large spanner from the ground, held it aloft in a threatening manner and took a half step closer towards the man.

As the owl woman grabbed a spanner and close in on him menacingly Winifred startled and stumbled backward. His foot caught on one of the uneven floorboards and he had to grab onto one of the racks near the door to keep from falling over. "What in the Lord's name are you doing!"

Her point made, Magali instantly made herself as unthreatening as possible, a skill she'd learned over the decades of people pointing at her and whispering behind her back merely for how she looked. The spanner placed back on the ground, two steps taken back, as she spoke. "I'm doing what I can to give myself a sense of security, in the face of a perceived potential threat. Isn't that what you're advocating?"

"The way you act to make your point is childish and preposterous. Not to mention deeply unsettling." Winifred quickly recaptured his haughty arrogance. "If you wish to debate the merits and failings of the proposed laws, I'd happily do so in an academic setting, but once one resolves to violence to make a point one has already lost the debate." He took a deep breath to steady himself a bit more before adding, "As to what I am advocating, that is none of your concern. I was merely showing understanding and empathy for their world view. Something a lot more people might benefit from. Following your display it would seem you can count yourself primarily among those."

"Not an unexpected response. You immediately jumped to your self-righteous conclusions without even wondering what perceived threat you might pose to me, that I might want to arm myself against," Magali cocked her head a bit, that sweet smile not leaving her features. "Then you devolve to personal insults and attacks. I've met seven year old's more mature, less arrogant and narrow minded. Though in one thing you are correct," as her smile fell and a more dark expression came over her face. "There's no actual talking to someone like that. Not in any constructive way."

"I think you'll find no insults and attacks among my response, it was merely objective observation of the situation." Winifred shook his head, why was he engaging in this type of conversation with a Caretaker of all people? At the very least if he did he shouldn't expect anything other than fallacies and emotional outbursts. "As this doesn't seem like a productive use of either of our times, I will excuse myself. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

"It is my sincere hope that one day you'll learn to empathize with others. Have a nice evening," Magali coldly responded. She was glad to not waste any more words on this man.